


Fever

by maqcy



Series: Whumptober 2018 [8]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt, Fever, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Gen, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Protective Yuri Plisetsky, Sickfic, Whump, Whumptober, Xenophobia, brief racism, homeless Otabek, mentions of Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 06:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16235708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maqcy/pseuds/maqcy
Summary: Yuri Plitsetsky steps in to help a dark-eyed homeless man with an awful cough.





	1. Fever I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArabellaFaith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArabellaFaith/gifts).



> ahh I think this is the longest so far for whumptober?? honestly i could have written more for it to *stares at all the other writing i should be doing*
> 
> Thanks to the lovely Imperial_Dragon for patiently helping me with punctuation, and generally being amazing - you're the best!
> 
> Also this is dedicated to ArabellaFaith whose amazing fics i devoured all at once a couple of months ago. They got me incredibly invested in Otayuri and Arabella deserves a medal or something. Thanks for being awesome, I hope you like this!! :))
> 
> Enjoy!

“Got any spare change?”

The words made Yuri startle. “No, sorry,” he said automatically. He was already half-way past the man, heading for the apartment block door, before he realised that he _did_ have some spare coins and he paused, backtracking, as he dug around in his pockets.

The man, dark-haired under his hood with heavy, serious brows, looked up in faint surprise when Yuri crouched to drop a couple of pounds into his cup.

“Ta,” he said with a soft, thick accent, looking at Yuri. Yuri brushed his hair out of his eyes to nod awkwardly before heading back towards the door, fumbling with his keys to head inside.

*

The weather was closing in and Yuri saw the dark-haired man huddled under the porch of the concrete apartment block more frequently as the nights got darker. He tried to give him a few pounds whenever their paths collided and the man seemed to recognise Yuri, always thanking him with that grave expression.

“Fucking vagrant, clear off!”

Yuri looked up sharply from where he’d had his nose buried in his scarf and saw one of the apartment tenants, a man Yuri didn’t recognise, gesturing and shouting at the dark-haired man on the floor, who was backing up, gathering his things.

“Go back to your own fucking country,” the tenant added in a snarl and shoved the man hard in the ribs with his boot, knocking him backwards and causing him to wheeze in shock, turning to look incredulously at the tenant who had kicked him.

“Hey!” Yuri yelled and rushed over, though he was wary of the icy ground.

“What?” the tenant snapped. The man on the ground was grabbing his backpack and, with his mouth set in a hard, angry line, backing up.

“He was leaving, you didn’t have to fucking kick him,” Yuri snapped.

The tenant glared at him as the homeless guy walked away, meeting Yuri’s gaze briefly to give him a nod before he disappeared around a corner, shoulders hunched against the cold. Yuri frowned after him unhappily.

“Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout,” the tenant muttered, and disappeared into the building, slamming the door behind him and leaving Yuri to find his keys. Yuri shook his head in private disgust.

“Fucking people,” he grumbled.

*

Yuri came out of the building in a rush, late for work, only to pause at the sound of a heavy, hacking coughing. Taking a few steps, he saw the dark-eyed man hunched down by the wall, mostly out of sight, and Yuri dug out a fiver with a concerned frown.

“Sounds bad,” he said, when the man’s coughing had eased a little.

The man shrugged, looking tired and pale. He was shivering and only nodded silently when Yuri pushed the note into his cup. Yuri fiddled with the strap off his backpack, glancing towards the train station. He was late for work and yet-

“I’ll be back,” he muttered, and unlocked the apartment door again to head quickly up the stairs to the second floor. He rummaged through the back of his closet, stilling when his hands fell on an old waterproof. His grandfather’s. He touched the sleeve reverently for a moment before he slid it off the coat hanger and headed back downstairs again with the coat and a spare blanket bunched in his arms. His grandfather wouldn’t have wanted his clothes to be left in a cupboard when there was someone sat out in the cold who needed them. “These any good?” Yuri offered when he returned, slightly out of breath.

The man looked up at him blankly for a second. His scarf was pulled up over his nose and he tugged it hesitantly down as he looked at what Yuri was offering.

“Thanks,” he croaked, his voice sounding awful, reaching up to accept them and Yuri gladly passed them down.

“S’alright,” he said. “Hope you feel better." The man nodded silently, watching Yuri and Yuri shrugged before checking his watch and grimacing. “Gotta go,” he said and the man nodded. “I’m Yuri,” Yuri offered, as he was leaving.

There was a pause and he started heading off, not expecting an answer. “Otabek,” he heard, the voice rough and he glanced back over his shoulder to quirk a smile before he hurried to try to catch his train.

*

The homeless man, Otabek, didn’t seem to be getting any better, but was coughing on the few times that Yuri saw him. Yuri didn’t know where else the man went, but he found himself chewing his lip as the weather worsened further and he didn’t see Otabek sat by the apartment building wall.

“You want me to make you some tea?” Yuri said, relief blossoming in his chest when he came back from work to see Otabek there, even as he grimaced in sympathy at the awful, grating cough Otabek had had for at least a couple of weeks now.

“’m okay,” Otabek said quietly, even though he looked awful. Yuri was relieved to see that Otabek was wearing the waterproof Yuri had given him, and that the blanket was bunched around his hips.

“How about soup?” Yuri tried. He’d been planning this for a couple of days, building himself up to it, and he hoped that Otabek wouldn’t refuse. It pained Yuri to hear the man’s awful coughing and he was scared that he’d come down one morning and Otabek wouldn’t look up to meet his eyes.

Otabek frowned slightly, before shrugging. “Okay,” he said and Yuri smiled in relief.

“Okay,” he said softly back and headed up to his apartment, humming a tune that his grandfather used to as he warmed some soup on the stove and made up a little bread and butter, too.

He put the soup into a plastic container and took them down the stairs, frowning at the sound of Otabek’s rough, exhausted coughing.

“Here you are,” Yuri murmured, coming over and crouching down to offer the container to him, which Otabek accepted with gloved hands.

“Thanks,” he said, meeting Yuri’s eyes soberly, looking up from under his brows. Yuri wondered briefly what Otabek would look like without the rough, dark scruff he had growing on his jaw and then flushed and turned away. Otabek had a way of looking at Yuri that made him want to duck his head like a teenager and it was totally inappropriate.

“Yeah,” Yuri offered the bread and butter that he’d wrapped in tinfoil before getting to his feet, running a hand through his too-long hair. “Sure.” He shivered at the chill in the air and turned to go back inside, glancing back once to find Otabek staring after him with those depthless eyes. Yuri swallowed and slipped back into the warmth of the apartment block, feeling guilty and faintly unsettled.

*

It became a routine over the following days that Yuri brought Otabek hot tea in the mornings and soup in the evenings, when Otabek was there. He wasn’t always. His cough didn’t seem to improve and Yuri found himself staring into space while he was meant to be working, looking out at the icy weather and hoping that Otabek was somewhere warm.

“Hey,” Yuri said, balancing soup and bread in one hand and a mug of tea in the other, which Otabek left in the corner of the porch when he was done.

Otabek didn’t immediately respond and Yuri assumed that he was dozing. He walked over until he was standing in front of Otabek but the sound of his footsteps didn’t stir Otabek. “Otabek?” Yuri said, when Otabek still didn’t move. “Otabek?”

A terrible pang of fear shot through Yuri and his hand clenched so suddenly around the soup that he almost dropped it. “Otabek?” he said, panicked, and he crouched quickly to shove the bowl and mug onto the frost-hard ground as he reached out for Otabek’s shoulder. “Wake up,” Yuri said, half-demanding and half-pleading. He could only see Otabek’s closed eyes and forehead above his scarf, and _fuck fuck fuck_ , he couldn’t see him breathing.

 _God please no_ , Yuri thought.


	2. Fever II

He’d known Otabek was sick, he’d known, he should have fucking done something, “Otabek!” Yuri said, his voice cracking. “Come on, please, goddammit.” He shook Otabek’s shoulders sharply.

Otabek’s head came up with a soft grunt and Yuri exhaled heavily, his hands curling in Otabek’s coat. “Hey, hey, can you hear me?” he said. “Otabek, it’s Yuri, talk to me.”

Otabek’s eyes opened groggily and his arm came up to touch Yuri’s arm, glancing sideways as if disorientated. Yuri leaned back slightly, realising that his heart was hammering.

Otabek look at him blearily for a second before he lifted an arm to his face and started coughing, great heaving hacks that made Yuri flinch.

No fucking way was he leaving Otabek like this, not after he’d been half convinced that he was- that he was-

“You recognise me?” Yuri said over Otabek’s coughing. Otabek jerked his head, yes, but kept coughing. “Alright, you want to come upstairs with me? Come and get warm, have a bath and some soup and stuff?”

Otabek closed his eyes as several particularly hard, painful-sounding coughs wracked him and then he wheezed and stopped.

“You…sure?” he said, his voice thin. Yuri nodded so fast that he jerked something at the back of his neck.

“Yes,” he said, “Yeah, come on.” He took hold of Otabek’s arms, broadcasting his movements so as not to startle the bigger man. “I made soup, but I can come back down for it,” he rambled. “God fucking hell you scared me,” he muttered, before he got to his feet to help Otabek. Otabek staggered up but started coughing the moment he was fully upright. Yuri winced at the sound of it. He should have done something sooner.

The blanket around Otabek’s shoulders was sliding off and Yuri caught the corner and tucked it back over Otabek’s shoulder before he bent down to pick up Otabek’s rucksack, only for a gloved hand to land heavily on his shoulder, pushing him away. He stopped surprised to find Otabek looking at him warily, even as one arm was still covering his mouth as he coughed.

Yuri backed off a step. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “It’s your bag.” He should have realised. Otabek didn’t have much but what he did have was probably important to him. Otabek managed to stop wheezing and he picked up the bag himself whilst Yuri grabbed the soup and mug. “Alright, you okay?” he checked. Otabek nodded but didn’t try to talk. His gaze was lucid, though, and he followed Yuri with sharp eyes as Yuri headed over to the apartment door to let him in, setting the mug down on the floor as he unlocked the door.

The lift was slow enough that Yuri usually took the stairs but this time he waited for it, sending worried glances at Otabek. The dark-haired man’s shoulders were hunched up but he was still obviously tall, taller than Yuri, and Yuri found himself wondering what Otabek would look like with his shoulders back and stood proudly, clean-shaven and the pallor of sickness gone from his tired face.

Yuri let them both into his apartment, feeling a cringe of shame at the obvious _nice_ -ness of it all. It wasn’t even Yuri’s money but his father’s but Yuri shoved the thoughts aside as Otabek started wheezing again, persistent and grating.

“Bath, or soup and tea?” Yuri asked as he ushered Otabek into a chair and went to turn up the heating.

Otabek gestured towards the soup bowl that Yuri had left on the counter and Yuri brought it over with a spoon. Otabek didn’t speak but just nodded in thanks before he curled over the bowl and started spooning it into his mouth.

Yuri moved away to make fresh cups of tea for both of them, and to see what medicines he had. He briefly considered whether Otabek might be addicted to something, but the painkillers were only mild and Otabek’s cough sounded agonising.

“I have painkillers and something specifically for cold and flu,” he said as he passed a mug over to Otabek, who watched him quietly from the armchair except for the slight drag of his breathing. “You can’t have both, apparently. So…?” he offered them and Otabek pointed at the cold and flu and Yuri handed it over. “Want me to run a bath?” he offered when Otabek handed back the package, swallowing a tablet with his tea.

Otabek nodded and Yuri went to do so. The evening passed quickly, with Otabek bathing, his coughing audible from the kitchen, and then flopping down on the couch to lie curled up, his breathing sounding awful. Yuri turned down the volume on the television when he saw Otabek’s eyes closing and he found himself studying Otabek’s face. He’d shaved his face while he was in the bathroom and, to Yuri, he seemed to have an air of nobility, with his proud chin and sharp jaw. His lips were chapped and his cheeks flushed unhealthily and Yuri chewed on his lip in concern, but there wasn’t much to be done except wait and Yuri eventually sighed and headed off to bed.

*

Yuri couldn’t sleep, not with how he could hear Otabek coughing, and then he couldn’t sleep when it stopped, either.

Eventually he pulled himself up out of bed to pad softly into the dimly lit kitchen, both to check on his house guest and to fill a glass of water.

Otabek was lying slackly on his side, apparently dead to the world, except that his face was tight with a frown and Yuri crept closer, wary of waking the other man, but Otabek didn’t stir. He looked badly flushed and his breathing was still bad enough to worry Yuri.

Yuri stepped away to fetch himself that water and look up the symptoms for pneumonia on his phone. Maybe it was just a bad flu. He hoped so. Yuri chewed his lip as he flicked through the medical pages on his phone before looking back at Otabek, finding the man blinking back at him, making him startle.

“Sorry,” Yuri said softly, his stomach twisting in guilt. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Don’t worry,” Otabek said, his voice rough in a way that both sounded painful and sent an inappropriate shiver down Yuri’s spine. An image of Otabek pushing him up against the counter, looking down at him, and kissing him, rushed into Yuri’s head before he pushed it away, blushing. “Can I-” Otabek said, before breaking into coughing and Yuri put his phone away, realising that it was water Otabek wanted and he quickly fetched him some, coming over to hand it to him. Otabek nodded his thanks, looking exhausted and making Yuri feel doubly terrible for waking him.

“Could I check your temperature?” Yuri asked hesitantly, remembering what he’d been reading on his phone.

Otabek lifted his brows before a slight smile crossed his strained face, making Yuri stare at him. “Sure,” he said and swallowed a mouthful of water, “as long as you don’t stick a thermometer up my ass.”

Yuri snorted, breaking into a grin. “No promises,” he teased, before heading off to his medicine cupboard to rummage around. Ah, there it was. He’d never used the thermometer before and he unwrapped it as he came back over to Otabek. It needed batteries and he found some as he was looking over the instructions. Otabek watched him from the couch with dark, tired eyes.

“Goes in your ear, apparently,” he said, poking at the buttons to turn it on. Otabek coughed a little before stopping. Yuri looked up and offered the electronic thermometer to Otabek, who shifted a little to take it, looking bewildered. “Just, um, press the button and hold it in your ear ‘til there’s a beep.” Yuri said.

Otabek did as he said and then they both peered at the screen, “Fuck,” Yuri muttered. “You’re running at 40 degrees.”

Otabek glanced wearily at him, “Is that bad?” he said.

“Yeah,” Yuri muttered, pulling out his phone again to check what he’d read. “If it doesn’t go down in a few hours, you’re meant to call a doctor.” He met Otabek’s eyes, before Otabek just shrugged. “Just keep drinking water, okay?” Yuri said anxiously and Otabek nodded, letting Yuri hand him the water glass again. “And if you get too hot, I’ll run you a cool bath.”

Otabek looked up at him as he drank, and Yuri tried not to notice how Otabek’s throat moved when he swallowed.

“Good of you to do this,” Otabek said roughly, putting the water aside to watch Yuri with that steady, intense gaze, though he looked tired and sick. “I mean it,” he added, when Yuri shrugged awkwardly.

“S’okay,” he said. “Just get better, okay?”

Otabek smiled slightly, “Do my best,” he said before shucking out of the jumper he’d been wearing and slumping back down to close his eyes.

Yuri looked down at the jumper and the other bits of winter clothing that Otabek had shed, “I’ll wash these?” he offered. Otabek just grunted, half-asleep and Yuri picked them up quietly.

Yuri stayed close by for most of the night, tiredly keeping an eye on Otabek and waking him up twice to take his temperature again. It went up a degree the first time, which left Yuri fretting, before it went down. Exhausted with worrying, Yuri collapsed down on the couch opposite Otabek’s, listening to the other man’s rasping breathing in the few seconds before he sank into deep slumber.

*

After his fever broke, Yuri went with Otabek to the doctor to get antibiotics for his cough.

“Pneumonia,” Otabek said offhandedly, coming out of the doctor’s room and Yuri’s stomach dropped.

“What?” he said dumbly, remembering with a sudden panic all the stuff he’d read online about complications and hospital and people _dying_ , “Are you okay?”

Otabek raised his eyebrows, parting his lips to reply before he grimaced and turned away to cough thickly into his elbow for a minute or so. “Yeah,” he said when he’d finished. “It’s mild. I gotta get antibiotics but it’s fine.”

“Oh,” Yuri said, utterly relieved. They walked slowly to the pharmacy, which was only around the corner, in silence, both lost in thought. Yuri fretted over what he was making tonight for dinner for them and whether he would be able to persuade Otabek to take his bed and Yuri sleep on the couch. He just felt guilty coming out of his room in the morning to see Otabek’s large form curled up on the couch.

“Guess you want me gone, huh?” Otabek said, as they were leaving the chemist with Otabek’s medicine. Yuri looked both ways down the road but couldn’t see the taxi that he’d called for them. Otabek was too sick to walk home and Yuri didn’t drive.

“Huh?” Yuri said, frowning.

“You look like you’re sucking a lemon,” Otabek said, his tone light but his eyes unhappy. He started coughing again and Yuri waited, Otabek’s words bumping around his head, for him to finish.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he said quietly when Otabek had finished. “I just wanted the taxi to get here faster, ‘cus I don’t like you being out here in the cold.”

Otabek looked down at him, frowning slightly and Yuri hesitantly met his gaze, “You know I’m not your responsibility, right?” Otabek said slowly. “I don’t- I didn’t ask for charity, Yuri.”

Yuri felt a rush of something that felt absurdly like rejection and swallowed as he looked down. “Yeah I know,” he muttered. “But it’s not charity, its just- fucking human decency.”

The taxi arrived and they got in, although Otabek’s frown deepened. “I don’t like feeling like I’m in your debt all the time,” he said and Yuri turned to give him a pained look.

“I never meant to make you-”

“I know,” Otabek interrupted, “but I do anyway.”

“What do you want me to say?” Yuri said, hurt making his tone sharper than he meant. He turned away to look stubbornly out the window, hating the idea of Otabek leaving. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Why not?” Otabek said.

“’Cus I like you,” Yuri muttered. “’Cus I’d worry.”

Otabek was silent for the rest of the short journey home and Yuri climbed out of the car to pay the driver, bracing himself for Otabek to tell him that he was getting his things together. Otabek coughed wearily as the car was driving off and Yuri miserably led the way to the apartment block to let them in.

“I’ll get a job,” Otabek said suddenly, as Yuri was opening the door. “Let me pay you back, I swear I’ll do it.”

Yuri turned in shock to find Otabek looking at him, “Really?” Yuri said, hope creeping into his voice. “You’ll stay?”

Otabek’s mouth twitched up at the corners, “I dunno why you want me to,” he said, “but yeah, okay. ‘Til I get my feet under-”

Yuri cut him off by throwing his arms around Otabek with a soft cry of relief, inordinately pleased. “I want you to stay,” he said awkwardly, as he was backing off, rubbing his arm. Otabek smiled at him fully, then, and Yuri smiled back.

“Then I’ll stay,” Otabek said simply and they smiled at each other for a second, before Yuri remembered the chill of the air and the fact that Otabek had fricking pneumonia and he ushered the bigger man inside.

“Got to get you warm,” he said. “I’ll make you some soup and toast, and tea because you’ve got to keep drinking. And you should take your antibiotics- why’re you looking at me like that?”

Otabek was grinning at him and Yuri stopped talking, self-conscious of his rambling. Otabek wrapped an arm gently around Yuri’s shoulders and Yuri flushed, “I just have a feeling you’ll take good care of me,” Otabek said gently and Yuri ducked his head and smiled, all but vibrating with happiness when Otabek kissed the top of his head.

“I’ll try,” Yuri mumbled, and he did.

               

**Author's Note:**

> Amused? Bored? Disillusioned with the state of the world? Let me know!


End file.
